Peru – Scott Edelmanhttp://www.scottedelman.com
Writer and EditorFri, 09 Dec 2016 14:23:21 +0000en-UShourly1https://wordpress.org/?v=4.7Gaze upon Astrid y Gaston’s menu and prepare to salivatehttp://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/31/gaze-upon-astrid-y-gastons-menu-and-prepare-to-salivate/
http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/31/gaze-upon-astrid-y-gastons-menu-and-prepare-to-salivate/#respondFri, 01 Jun 2012 03:06:01 +0000http://www.scottedelman.com/?p=6517Earlier this month, I told you about the best meal of my life. Now, because Astrid y Gaston was kind enough to forward me a copy of its menu, you can play the home game, and try to make up your mind as to what you’d order from this most amazing bill of fare (an English version of which seems not to exist anywhere else online).

First, the appetizers …

Then, the entrees …

Finally, the desserts …

So … may I take your order?

]]>http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/31/gaze-upon-astrid-y-gastons-menu-and-prepare-to-salivate/feed/0Not the video you were hoping for …http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/21/not-the-video-you-were-hoping-for/
http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/21/not-the-video-you-were-hoping-for/#respondMon, 21 May 2012 12:39:21 +0000http://www.scottedelman.com/?p=6325Why, yes, I did record Saturday night’s Nebula Awards banquet, but as the file is larger than six gigabytes, which in my neck of the woods would require about 20 hours of my total bandwidth to upload, making it impossible for me to use the Internet for any other purpose, like, say, earning a living, you won’t get to vicariously experience that night until the weekend, when I can start it uploading and then wander away from my keyboard for the day. (On the other hand, if you want to relive last year’s ceremony, you can watch a video of it right now.)

Meanwhile, here’s a different, hour-long video which might appeal to you—though not if you’re looking for long speeches from writers thanking their editors, agents, critique groups, and spouses.

Back at the beginning of our recent Peru trip, on April 29, 2012, our first morning in Cuzco, our tour guide took us to the main square, the Plaza de Armas, to watch what she said would be a military parade. But it proved to be much more than that. Also marching were trade unions and university students, who made up the majority of the participants. I enjoyed most watching the faces of the thousands of those who marched. Some were deadly serious, some bored, some joking, some weary.

And now, prepare to travel to Cuzco, and see a microcosm of a country’s future in the faces of its students …

Also—I have uploaded all of my photos of Peru to Flickr. Haven’t had time to caption them appropriately yet, but perhaps you’ll find them interesting anyway.

And that should be the end of my Peru posts. We now return you to our regularly scheduled program of posts about writing, comics, science fiction, food … and, of course, the ukulele.

]]>http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/21/not-the-video-you-were-hoping-for/feed/0So what didn’t I eat in Peru?http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/15/so-what-didnt-i-eat-in-peru/
http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/15/so-what-didnt-i-eat-in-peru/#commentsWed, 16 May 2012 01:33:02 +0000http://www.scottedelman.com/?p=6308It occurs to me that since I’ve told you what I ate in Peru, from multiple servings of guinea pig to a marvelous meal of octopus and goat, I should also tell you what I didn’t eat.

So … where did I draw the line?

At a crowded food stall in Cuzco’s main market, I found people slurping away at bowls of soup beneath the following sign.

And why not? Who wouldn’t want to be cured of epilepsia or dolor de cabeza?

But the problem was … well …

You know the old saying that if you eat a live frog first thing in the morning, nothing worse will happen to you the rest of the day?

You do? Then you’ll know what I saw beneath that sign, eagerly waiting to be dropped into my soup.

That’s right.

Frogs!

I decided to let them live another day. Or another few minutes, until some local bought a bowl of soup in hopes of being cured of prostrata.

When I learned that we would have an evening free in Lima at the end of our week spent exploring Machu Picchu, Ollantaytambo, Sacsayhuaman, and other awe-inspiring sites, I was determined that I wouldn’t permit exhaustion to cause us to fall back on room service or a hotel restaurant. I wanted more than a meal. I wanted magic. And after a bit of research, I decided the best place to ingest that magic was at Astrid y Gaston, voted one of the 50 best restaurants in the world. I sent emails to our Lima hotel, hoping that the concierge would have luck snagging us a table, but by the time our trip began, I’d heard nothing back. So I started to worry.

And then, as I boarded our American Airlines flight in Miami, I saw the name of the chef, Gastón Acurio, on the cover of the inflight magazine, and a lengthy article inside touting the wonders of his kitchen. And I worried some more.

Because though I couldn’t understand Spanish, I did understand that such a piece might increase the already high demand for tables at Astrid y Gaston. So the first thing I did when I saw our tour operator after landing was to ask if he could help get us a reservation later that week. He did, and so on Friday night, we cabbed over, along with a few friends we’d made on the trip, to the restaurant one food critic called, “my favorite restaurant in Peru.”

When we arrived a few minutes before the 7:00 p.m. opening, the door was locked, the shutters were closed, and except for the small sign on an exterior wall, we had no way of knowing we were in the right place. But exactly at 7:00, the door was flung open, and we were warmly welcomed and shown to our table near the kitchen.

As we studied the whimsical menu—the Peking guinea pig was described as “Tired of being rejected by the world, the guinea pig decides to disguise itself as a Peking duck, dressed with rocoto and purple corn crepe. It got a standing ovation from everyone.”—we were presented with an amuse bouche of mango cebiche and delicate fish puffs the ingredients of which my palate isn’t educated enough to even begin to describe. Luckily, the restaurant kindly sent me a copy of its English-language menu, so I can accurately share the rest of what I ate.

For my appetizer, I chose—

Pulpo atrapado en un cilindro ardiendo (octopus trapped in a smoker cylinder on fire) The smoke disguised the octopus as an anticucho skewered meat. Some botija black olive bubbles extinguished its fire. We give you a little Peruvian yellow potato to relieve the pain.

When I took the first bite, the world faded away. My eyes closed, sound diminished, and I went inside myself. The octopus was so transformative—the best I’d ever eaten—that each time it touched my tongue, my ability to converse faded away. I almost lost the power of thought!

For her appetizer, Irene chose—

Pejerrey silverside fish and other fish They are all celebrating, all fried and crispy. Multicolored streamers are falling, getting wet in sauces of hundreds of flavors. It’s a carnival.

(See what I mean about the whimsy of the menu?)

We shared each other’s dishes, of course, and in fact, all of us at the table traded nibbles, and the flavors were astonishing. I laughed, I cried, I got verklempt. I felt touched by God. Do I exaggerate? Perhaps But if you’d been there, so would you.

I ordered it not just because I enjoy goat, but because it was the first time I’d ever seen baby goat on a menu. It was so tender that pressing gently against the meat with my fork was enough to remove it from the bone. And the flavor was exquisite.

Irene’s main course—

Suckling pig The entire leg … the rest is in a chifa (Peruvian-Chinese cuisine) version: A mimpao. A spring roll. A pancake. Some juice from a five-flavor chifa.

—was the most surprising. Who expects a suckling pig slider? The meat was luscious. (And it made me want to roast another suckling pig of my own, even though it would be nowhere near as good.)

Again, the five of us shared, and lo, there was much giggling, for we were in the presence of magicians.

Here you see the happy band of travelers, the kitchen a flurry of activity behind us.

After three hours of dining, we were thinking it was time to relinquish our table. After all, the 3-1/2 hour tasting menu would begin at 10:30. (Tempting, but with a 3:30 a.m. wake-up call the following morning, I didn’t feel up to eating until 2:00 a.m.!) As we whispered to each other that perhaps we should ask for the check, our server appeared with a box which he placed in the center of our table. He opened four drawers to reveal yet another amuse bouche.

And the magic continued!

When we departed, I was satiated, but not stuffed, and I was exhilarated. (There were times during the meal when if you’d touched my arm, you would have felt goosebumps. Really!) I felt a little sad the next day, because how likely is it that I’ll ever be in Peru again to experience such a masterpiece of a meal? But then I thought … that is probably as it should be. A great meal is as ephemeral as a great theatrical performance, existing outside of time, never to be recreated.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not already thinking—how the heck can I manage to get back to Lima?

As we departed, I told any Astrid y Gaston employee who would listen that after the meal they served us, I was unsure which I would talk about the most to my friends after I got home—Machu Picchu or Astrid y Gaston. And to be honest, I’m still not sure which was the clear winner.

Yes, it was that good.

]]>http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/14/thank-you-astrid-y-gaston-for-the-best-meal-of-my-life/feed/1Yes, I brought a ukulele to Machu Picchuhttp://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/13/yes-i-brought-a-ukulele-to-machu-picchu/
http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/13/yes-i-brought-a-ukulele-to-machu-picchu/#respondSun, 13 May 2012 23:26:08 +0000http://www.scottedelman.com/?p=6258Remember how miserable I was when I found myself ukulele-less in Salt Lake City? My withdrawal symptoms gave me the shakes. I was determined not to let that happen again, and yet, I didn’t want to lug my concert-sized uke to Peru.

And so if you were in Peru the first week of May, you’d have found me holding my uke aloft at Machu Picchu …

… along the Inca Trail, in front of a backdrop that seemed perfect for a performance of “When I’m Cleaning Windows” …

… and at Intipunku, the Sun Gate, with Machu Picchu far below in the distance.

But don’t worry—I did not destroy the serenity of the site by strumming when others were about … only when I found myself alone on the trail or when I was in my hotel room.

Sadly, though I played a song and attempted to capture video of the performance to prove that though I’m not the best interpreter of George Formby, I’ve likely performed him at the highest altitude, my Flip died in the middle of recording. So, no evidence!

Which is probably just as well …

]]>http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/13/yes-i-brought-a-ukulele-to-machu-picchu/feed/0Who knew Batman was so big in Peru?http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/13/who-knew-batman-was-so-big-in-peru/
http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/13/who-knew-batman-was-so-big-in-peru/#commentsSun, 13 May 2012 21:18:07 +0000http://www.scottedelman.com/?p=6237As our Peru trip tour bus made its way through the streets of Ollantaytambo last week on its way to the Inca site known as the Fortress, I spotted … the Batmobile!

Well, not the Batmobile. More like a Batmobile—a small taxi with a rear window in the shape of the Bat symbol. I wasn’t quick enough with my camera to snap a photo, however, and when we headed back after our climb, even though I was vigilant, I didn’t spot it again as we meandered through the small town. And that, I thought, was that.

But later in the week, as we bussed toward Cuzco after our stay in Machu Picchu, I spotted five other similar vehicles with Batman decorations in small towns along the route. I was only fast enough snap a shot of this one, but it’ll give you an idea of what I mean.

But those half dozen vehicles weren’t all.

Because later in the week, as I stepped from the Convent of Santo Domingo in Cuzco, I saw this bus momentarily stopped in traffic.

Before it could pull away, I was able to snap this side pic as well.

I had no idea why these Bat-vehicles were all over Peru, and now that I’m back home and have had a chance to search online for a reason, I’m still not entirely sure. Various sites report that:

If you are staying in Cuzco for a long time, the Combis are a cheap and reliable form of transportation. These are the Volkswagen vans and small buses with names like Imperial, Batman, or Zorro.

OK, so I get that they exist. But that doesn’t really explain why they exist. Is Batman a revered character in Peru? Were the comics, movies, TV shows, etc., major cultural influences? If you have any theories, let me know.

But there was still one final Batman to come. While wandering Lima’s Miraloflores LarcoMar Mall, I ran across this game in an arcade.

Unlike the Bat-vehicles, which I assume to be copyright infringements (tell me if I’m wrong, please), this superhero version of Whac A Mole is an officially licensed product.

And yes, I did proceed to bop the Joker, the Riddler, and even Harley Quinn. But then, you knew that I would, right?

And before you accuse me of barbaric behavior for dining on animals which have been domesticated as pets in the U.S., all I can say to that is, when it comes to guinea pigs—or cuy, as they’re called in Peru—the question I always ask myself is … what would Jesus do?

And what Jesus would do is—eat the guinea pig!

Want proof? Check out this 1753 painting by Marcos Zapata from the Cathedral of Cuzco showing Christ and the Apostles about to dig into some cuy. And if it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for me.

I ended up eating cuy four times over the course of our week in Peru. Which restaurant prepared it the best? You’ll find that out below.

My first cuy was ordered as appetizers during my dinners Sunday and Monday at the restaurant in the Hotel Sol y Luna in Peru’s Sacred Valley. The dish was described as “piernitas de cuy confitadas con papas a la sal de maras y uchucuta,” or “crunchy guinea pig legs with maras salt potato and uchucuta sauce.”

The uchucuta—or Andean hot sauce—proved to be much too spicy for me, but the cuy was the juiciest of the three. The meat tasted dark, like a chicken thigh, and was so good that I ordered the same appetizer each of the two nights we stayed in the Sacred Valley.

We spent Tuesday night at the Sanctuary Lodge in Machu Picchu, and surprisingly, there was no cuy available during any of our meals there, so I’d have to wait until Wednesday night in Cuzco to taste a differently prepared guinea pig. We had a free night in Cuzco to dine at a restaurant of our choosing, and so I asked our tour guide which spot he’d choose in that city for his last meal. It was between Limo and Chicha. I studied their menus, and was equally tempted by both, but chose the latter because the chef who ran Chicha was Gastón Acurio, who also ran Astrid y Gastón, which I hoped to visit during our free night in Lima, and I wanted to be able to compare their offerings.

The guinea pig below, called “cuy pekinés,” was the most interesting of the three. It consisted of “Cuy laqueado, panqueques de choclo, jalea de rocoto, nabo encurtido.” As you can see from the photo, the dish is basically Peking duck, but with guinea pig instead of duck. I’ve also heard it advertised as “guinea pig in a Chinese disguise.”

This cuy had the crispest skin, and the combination of tastes and textures as the guinea pig was placed in extremely tender pancakes and then covered with what I believe was pickled turnip plus a spicy (but not hot) sauce was delightful. An exquisite dish.

My final cuy was chosen for my entree during lunch Thursday at the MAP Cafe in Cuzco’s Museo de Arte Precolombino. This dish was described as “cuy drumsticks over a spongy corn puree.” The guinea pig was prepared similar to what I ate the first night, but unfortunately, this time around it wasn’t quite as juicy, so it came in third. I still don’t regret ordering it, because I’ll always pick dishes I’m unable to get at home when dining in foreign countries. If possible, I’d have had even more cuy.

Of course, with all the alpaca, octopus, sweetbreads, suckling pig and baby goat I was eating, there probably wouldn’t have been room for more cuy even if I could have found it on the menu!

One final note—if the thought of guinea pig makes you queasy, do not click through here to check out the cuy I ate back in Quito in 2001, as it’s far more recognizable as guinea pig than the dishes on this page, and isn’t for those with delicate sensibilities.

]]>http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/08/so-how-was-the-guinea-pig/feed/1Why Machu Picchu had me thinking of Jay Gatsbyhttp://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/07/why-machu-picchu-had-me-thinking-of-jay-gatsby/
http://www.scottedelman.com/2012/05/07/why-machu-picchu-had-me-thinking-of-jay-gatsby/#commentsTue, 08 May 2012 02:17:33 +0000http://www.scottedelman.com/?p=6183If you’ve wondered why I’ve been unusually silent for the past week and a half, I have a very good reason. I was on vacation.

In Machu Picchu!

And while I was there—and at the fortress at Ollantaytambo, and by Intipunku, the Sun Gate (from which you can, below, see Machu Picchu way off in the distance)—I oddly found myself thinking The Great Gatsby.

I’ll have more to share about the experience later, once I’ve recovered and had time to process it all, but for now, I just want to say—remember that passage a few paragraphs from the end of The Great Gatsby, the section that speaks of finally finding a thing “commensurate to his capacity for wonder”?

And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors’ eyes—a fresh, green breast of the new world. Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby’s house, had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder.

Though the analogy made there isn’t an exact match for what I felt as I clambered over the ancient stones and walked the Inca Trail, I was indeed feeling a sense of wonder, and also feeling that here was something truly worthy of that wonder. We so often say that things are awe-inspiring when they’re not really inspiring awe. But in this case, I was filled with awe, positively gobsmacked by it.

Didn’t expect to be thinking of Jay Gatsby as I fought off altitude sickness. But there you have it.